Scotch on the Rocks with a Twist
by koinekid
Summary: A drink with his future father-in-law leads Rodney McKay to a surprising revelation about Jennifer Keller.


**Stargate: Atlantis**

**Scotch on the Rocks with a Twist**

_A Short Story set in the _Aftermath _Universe by_

**koinekid**

**Disclaimer:** MGM owns SGA; KOI does NOT. Paramount owns the _Indiana Jones_ franchise.

**Rating: **T (for alcohol consumption and minor suggestive themes)

**Spoilers:** 4x07 Doppelganger

**Summary:** A drink with his future father-in-law leads Rodney McKay to a surprising revelation about Jennifer Keller.

**Note: **The following story takes place before the events of "Aftermath: The Seed."

Rarely did the astrophysicist find himself intimidated by anyone holding less than three earned doctorates. Unless that person was threatening his life. And in a way that's what Ian Keller was doing. Without Jennifer by his side Rodney McKay's life might as well be over.

Ian tilted and turned his Scotch glass with a practiced ease, allowing the single malt whisky within to coat the sides and coaxing out the liquor's full aroma. Lifting the tulip-shaped glass to his nose, he parted his lips and inhaled.

Rodney's glass remained firmly atop the porch rail. He considered trying to mimic the older man's gyroscopic maneuver but figured he'd end up spilling half of the expensive liquor or make a fool of himself in some other way. Best not to even try.

Bad enough was the disappointment on Ian's face when Rodney requested his Scotch _on the rocks_, like he'd failed some test of masculine virility. Jennifer's father might refuse to dilute his whisky with even a splash of water, but Rodney knew his limitations. And accepting the blow to his machismo was preferable to the coughing fit that would follow his first sip without ice.

It was after dinner on the second day of Rodney's first visit to Chippewa Falls. Jennifer had taken a call from an old classmate now working at St. Joseph's Hospital and encouraged Rodney and her father to get better acquainted during her absence. When Ian suggested they adjourn to the back porch with a bottle of 16-year-old Longmorn, Rodney eagerly agreed. He thought Scotch, even on the rocks, just the thing to warm him up on a chilly November evening. It still might be if they ever got around to actually drinking it.

"Listen, Robbie, my little girl is hardheaded." Ian at last took a sip, rolling the liquor on his tongue a full thirty seconds before swallowing. "If Jenny wants you, she'll spite me to have you. And she knows I'll crack in a month because I love her so goddamn much."

"I love Jennifer too, sir. That's why I asked her to marry me. Should I have asked you first?" Rodney gestured to the porch and the Scotch. "Is that what this is all about?"

Ian laughed, a deep sound from the abdomen that put Rodney's usual nervous chuckle to shame. "My _little girl_ is pushing thirty. She doesn't need my permission, and you sure as hell don't. This isn't about earning a blessing. It's about putting an old man's mind at ease. One question, one answer. Fair enough?"

Rodney shifted uncomfortably. He didn't believe Jennifer would break off their engagement if he failed her father's test, but neither did he wish to _test_ that hypothesis. Images of Jennifer and her father colluding to present him one final challenge flashed through his mind. He imagined a dozen previous suitors passing through the sliding doors onto this same porch, imbibing Ian's expensive Scotch, and after choosing their answers _poorly_, crumbling to dust like the bad guy from _Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade_.

That particular film was on Rodney's mind for good reason. He and Jennifer watched it on Blu-ray last night after Ian went to bed. Rodney could still feel Jennifer's body molded against his, could still hear her whispering in his ear in her Elsa Schneider-inspired fake Austrian accent. The transition from movie watching to making out on the couch had been inevitable. Also inevitable – Ian's finding them making out when he came downstairs for a glass of water. Oddly enough, the memory gave Rodney courage. If he could survive the embarrassment of Jennifer's father walking in on them semi-clothed and moaning, he could survive anything.

"Fair enough, sir. Ask your question."

Ian grunted, evidently pleased. "Why do you want to be with my little girl?"

Rodney smiled, something short of a big dopey grin. That's the question he was sweating? Piece of cake. "I love Jennifer more than I've ever loved anyone." Confident in his answer, Rodney raised his own glass and sniffed. The alcohol burned his nostrils.

Ian shook his head. "Boring and banal. Specify."

Rodney's face fell. Okay, new tack then. Every father loves to hear his daughter complimented. "Jennifer is the smartest person I know."

"Then hire her to do your taxes." Ian pivoted his glass almost to the point of spillage, then righted it. "Give me a _real_ reason."

Rodney felt as if he'd chosen the knight's golden goblet over the wooden chalice; he'd best reconsider before dipping his cup in the font. The humble approach might be best. Jennifer liked humble. "She recognizes my shortcomings and—"

"So do I. Next."

"And she doesn't shun me for them. I...she...what?" Rodney shook his head. "She makes me want to be better."

"Want to be better?" Ian said. "Go see a shrink."

"My shrink died," Rodney mumbled, dazed.

At the rate Ian was imbibing, it would take him half an hour to finish the dram of whisky in his glass. Rodney would run out of answers long before then, probably without producing an acceptable one. Without thinking, he raised his glass and drained it in one large gulp. He realized his folly a moment later.

Ian waited patiently for Rodney's spasmodic coughing fit to run its course. Then, "Care to try again?"

"Jennifer is kind, compassionate, loyal, forgiving, understanding." The words flowed faster and faster. Rodney was babbling, repeating himself, and he couldn't stop. Suddenly this man's approval mattered in itself whether it secured Jennifer's permanence in Rodney's life or not. "The thought of not waking up next to your daughter every morning for the rest of my life makes me sick. If my options are a hundred years of solitude or one with Jennifer, I'll take the one and die happy. I—"

"Dad, what are you doing to Rodney?"

Jennifer Keller stomped onto the porch in a fury. The pinched brow and severe frown that marked her angry face always struck Rodney as cute, even on those rare occasions when she directed that anger at him. Without meaning to he told her.

"Thank you, Rodney," Jennifer said as if his compliment were the most natural in the world.

Her hand sought his out, and the comforting pressure of her engagement ring against his fingers provided a reassurance sorely lacking these last few minutes. The band of his Seiko wristwatch provided the same for her, Jennifer often said. The positioning of their wrists did not allow her to feel the cold metal against her skin now, so Rodney massaged her index finger with the pad of his thumb instead.

"Well, Dad?"

Ian laughed, nervously ducking his head. "Easy, tiger. I'm just testing my future son-in-law."

"Testing?" Jennifer growled. "Dad, I love this man."

The significance of his and Jennifer's stance was not lost on Rodney. Hand-in-hand, they presented a united front against the world, and it appeared that world might include her father. Ian was right: Jennifer _would _spite him to have her fiancé. Rodney hoped it wouldn't come to that.

Setting his drink on the railing, Ian held out both hands. Jennifer reached for one; tugged forward by his fiancée, Rodney warily took the other.

"Good news," Ian said. "Robbie passed my test. You chose well, Jenny."

"Robbie?" Jennifer frowned. "His name is—"

"No." Rodney grinned. "That's fine, that's just fine." One battle at a time. Today, he'd won Ian Keller's approval. If it took the man a few days to learn Rodney's proper name, so be it. "'Sides, I'll take _Robbie_ over _Meredith_ any day."

"Meredith? Wait a—" Whatever retort Ian planned died on his tongue as he wilted under Jennifer's fiery glare.

"Dad, don't. I haven't told him yet."

"Told him what?" Ian shot back.

Rodney assumed he'd dodged another slight against his manhood, but maybe not. Ian was shaking his head in confusion, and it appeared it would take more than his daughter's ire to silence him this time.

Jennifer seized Rodney and dragged him inside. Before the door slid shut, he heard her father say, "What's Jenny's middle name got to do with anything?"

"Middle name?" Rodney's eyes widened. "Oh. Oh, wow."

Jennifer Meredith Keller, cheeks blazing, turned to face her fiancé, Meredith Rodney McKay. She smiled weakly. "Surprise."

Shaking his head, Rodney lowered himself onto a chair.

Jennifer knelt before him and grasped his hands. "I know I should have told you earlier, but I was afraid. Rodney, say something. Please."

The only answer she received was a gentle smile as Rodney guided Jennifer to her feet. The kiss he pressed to her lips lingered, and by the time it ended, she had settled into his lap.

"Still love me?"

Rodney laughed. "Oddly enough, even more. But if you tell Sheppard, the wedding's off."

"Wouldn't dream of it, honey." She snuggled into Rodney's arms. "Now you know why I let you call me _Annabelle_ so long." (*****)

With that she pulled him into another impassioned kiss. They were still kissing when her father entered and passed by on his way to bed. At the foot of the stairs, Ian called out, "Rodney, you decide you want to take my daughter's shirt off again, you do it in her room this time."

Jennifer stood, and taking Rodney by the hand, marched him past her father. "You heard the man, honey. To my room, let's go."

**The End**

_**Note:** A new author on ffn, Destiny Brighthope, is working on an M-rated tag for this story and a few of my others. Des hasn't published on this site yet, but I hear she's tagging one of DaniWilder's stories as well and is composing an original piece or two. If you're an M-rated connoisseur, keep an eye out._

(*****) Want to know why Rodney calls Jennifer _Annabelle_? Find out in "Aftermath" chapter four.


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